My Beautiful King

Epilogue

He was late. Twenty-three minutes late to be precise.

I adjusted my seating position on the roots of the tree Zayn and I always used to sit under. It was only mildly cold but I still kept wrapped up in a jacket and woolly cardigan underneath. I was taking no chances with the weather.

His lateness was filling me with half a sense of amusement and half a sense of worry. Zayn had never been one for arriving on time or early. The first time we'd ever met at Balfow Park he'd been twenty minutes late, because he couldn't give two shits about keeping me waiting. That had been ten days after we'd first met.

Could it be, that after everything we'd been through, he still didn't give two shits about keeping me waiting? Or was I being paranoid as usual?

Right on cue, I saw a jogging figure pace through the grass, bound in a warming jacket and scarf. I beamed.

He'd come a long way from being the boy who was insolent and apathetic to the chill.

I waved frantically and he returned the gesture, hurrying forward and then dramatically plonking himself next to me. He leant against the tree and shot me an a stunning, heart-weakening, out of breath grin.

"Hey."

"Hey, there."

"Sorry, I'm late. Louis was dropping me off; Niall and Liam hid his car keys."

I shook my head because I didn't care. He was here now and that was all that concerned me. Our lips pressed together in a brief kiss and without any more unnecessary words, he wrapped his arms around me in a cuddle. We stayed silently like that for a few minutes as we let our body heat speak for itself. The leaves above our heads liked to whisper memories of 'do you remember's so there was no need to vocally reminisce. I could feel his breathing over my cheek and it tickled, making me giggle childishly. Sussing out why I was laughing, Zayn began to join in.

God, I felt so happy.

"So," Zayn commented lightly as he stroked against the skin of my cheek. "Balfow Park, huh?"

I mumbled an affirmative reply. Balfow Park. The all too familiar scenery of grass that was once dusted with frost, a splintering bench that held corrupted plans and a large oak tree for shaded privacy. A large oak tree that we used to accommodate regularly and kiss under and say nothings as if we were the most senior, mature and wise; when in fact we were a couple of kids who were misguided in love, life and morality. And we still were. Only just a little bit more on the right course.

He continued to talk.

"Guess who I saw on the way here?"

"Who?" I asked dumbly without taking a second to attempt answering the question. Instead I focused and fiddled with Zayn's hand, folding and unfolding his index finger over the one next to it.

Noticing my unwillingness to play the guessing game, Zayn snatched his hand out of my grip. I sniggered and waited for him to answer.

"Becca."

Becca. Someone who was the utmost least of my problems. "What was she up to?" I asked casually, pretending that I didn't care one little bit. Zayn shrugged his shoulders.

"Crying. She was on the phone. I think she had an argument with Hayley and... I don't really know. Wasn't listening that hard."

I nodded in informed interest. No vocal answer. Zayn questioned my lack of speech and I shrugged my shoulders. "I was just thinking about how much time we spent here." I admitted slowly. "And I've decided that I never want to come here again."

He spluttered with shock. "What? Never come here again? Seriously?"

"Never ever. Not even if we stayed together until we were like 60, I would never come here for nostalgia. It's a fucking park, Zayn. A park. Nothing special at all. Why the Hell did we spend so much time here?"

"Because evidently we both used to like it here. You've changed, Ash."

I smirked and hit his arm playfully, nuzzling my head into his neck and inhaling his scent. He smelt just like the first time we hugged; musky, warm with a slight zing of lime. He was exactly the reason why we never had to come to Balfow Park again. Why come to a far away grassy terrain when he held all the nostalgia I ever needed to look upon?

"Oh." Zayn suddenly remembered. "We finally came up with a name for the band. I forgot to tell you."

My position changed and suddenly I was sitting upright, looking my boyfriend straight in the face. "No way! Tell me! What is it?"

He paused for unnecessary dramatic effect. "One Direction."

I paused in confusion as I mulled it over. "One Direction. One Direction. Does it have a meaning behind it?"

Zayn nodded. "Yeah. Well, Harry wanted us to have a name with the word 'one' in it. And I remembered how when you found me in that park, took me to your house, let me have a shower... I was arrogant to you. Ungrateful. And you probably won't remember this, but I do... You had said to me 'if you keep on like this, there's only one direction you're gonna be heading in, Zayn, and that's down'. It stuck with me. So yeah. One Direction. And that direction is up."

Cute. Very, very cute.

"I remember saying something along those lines." I squinted as a lasting smile hit my lips. "It's a nice name actually. I like it. Hey, who knows; maybe one day it's a name that'll be known all over the world!"

Zayn snorted with incredulous laughter and my smile became sad. It was a nice thought but maybe a little far-fetched. Who's to say that Zayn was born lucky enough to get such an honour?

Only God knows. And he wasn't telling.

"Let's go now," Zayn announced as he grabbed my hand and brought me to my feet. "Tell me about sixth form on the way there. Your GCSE results were good, weren't they?" I nodded with a proud grin. Zayn knew they were good. He just always liked to remind me. "Tell me about what your education is like while we walk to the lake."

"Okay," I drawled as our intertwined fingers locked. "But promise me that we won't skinny dip. I'm honestly learning to swim now but... I don't want to. Let's just sit by the lake, yeah? Dip our toes in or something."

"Alright. Promise."

And so, we walked to the lake, with no intentions of incidents or deceit or danger. Just a couple enjoying the view.